tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-131140272017-07-28T00:11:53.265-06:00crushedcorn (jonesing)Living life in the mitten state with a 1+ year old, Z-man, and a Blue dogJojonoreply@blogger.comBlogger291125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13114027.post-40543501313126371402013-03-21T20:19:00.004-06:002013-03-21T20:19:56.281-06:00I'm Bored Here...Let's reconvene <a href="http://crushedcorn.wordpress.com/">here</a>.Jojonoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13114027.post-2782678217707252702013-03-14T21:22:00.003-06:002013-03-14T21:22:48.084-06:00Let's Start OverToday wasn't a good day. &nbsp;I was exhausted all day and somehow didn't have the taste for the coffee (something must have been&nbsp;<i>really</i>&nbsp;wrong with me) that rode along with me to work. &nbsp;When I got to work, I had to wait five hours before getting a break or my lunch (I am not pleasant when I'm hungry), which made every other little thing I encountered seem enormous and insurmountable. &nbsp;When I got 'Rado home from daycare, he was whiny and needy (I love you baby, but sometimes...). &nbsp;That carried on through the majority of our dinner out, where we were celebrating Z's brother's birthday. &nbsp;Finally, when we got home, Z left 30 minutes later to hang at his brother's man lodge (his big push to go was to show his visiting best friend the place, but I'm still bothered). &nbsp;There are so many things I could say to Z if he were here. &nbsp;But that's the thing - he's not. &nbsp;And when he is we're usually passed out on the couch, or he's practicing bass while I'm reading or watching tv, or we're otherwise not communicating well. &nbsp;It feels like the impetus to open the lines of communication are on me because, well, I always feel like everything is on me. &nbsp;If anything, that poking finger will get me to take the steps that Z may not even realize need to be taken. &nbsp;He better get home before I run out of steam, fall asleep, and end up forgetting about it in the morning and the whole vicious cycle starts again. <br /><br />Marriage is work, but marriage with a child is even more so. &nbsp;It's not necessarily because taking care of a kid is so tiring, even though it is that. &nbsp;It's mainly because communicating clearly and spending time with each other becomes just another thing on the never-completed to-do list. &nbsp;I don't mean to trivialize those very important aspects of a good relationship, but communicating clearly and spending time (that doesn't involve eating or doing dishes) with someone whose schedule is sometimes the opposite of yours while still managing to find time for yourself is challenging. &nbsp;It's work, and sometimes it feels like we've done enough work for the day so some things get put off and put off and put off. <br /><br />An unmarried friend recently asked me for relationship advice. &nbsp;Being almost seven years into my marriage, I realized that I don't really have a good perspective on a dating relationship anymore. &nbsp;In marriage, emotions are so much more raw and the fear of consequences so much less (as long as I can stay awake, that is). &nbsp;I also realized that I haven't given my emotions full credence lately. &nbsp;I think it's because it takes too much time and energy to sort through them all and determine which ones are frivolous and petty and which ones really mean something. &nbsp;It takes a lot of shaking to unstick a spider web, but I have my fingers pretty wound up in this one. <br /><br />I'll end up sleeping on this web, but I'll do so happily listening to the sound of 'Rado breathing through the baby monitor. &nbsp;He is my ocean.Jojonoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13114027.post-83732951502751161952013-03-12T21:20:00.001-06:002013-03-12T21:25:32.211-06:00Say What You Need to Say<div><p>I've been thinking a lot about being truthful because I've suddenly been hit by an urgent and unyeilding need to tell the truth <i>all the time</i>. This is a big thing for me because I rarely think twice about smiling through the pain and saying that everything is all right when it, in fact, could be much better. I take those dangling "How are things going?" fruits at work and instead of slicing those puppies open and eating them up, I put them in my basket until they rot and just have to get thrown away. Anything to avoid discord. </p><p>Now, we all know that "How are you?" or "How are things?" are usually prefunctory questions - lies about how much someone truly cares about someone else. And if that's truly the case, why ask in the first place? Or better yet, why don't we keep the questions but take it upon ourselves to care because we all need help in some way or another, and doesn't having someone who cares help out more than we can help ourselves by ourselves? I'd like to care more and careless less.</p><p>Just because I've been hit by this truth need doesn't mean I've magically been able to make myself fulfill it, which is so frustrating. It's become a reflex of mine to smile and say that everything's fine; my mouth moves faster than my mind at those moments and I tell myself to slow down every output and speed up the inputs in hopes of stopping the quiet lying. The steps I make are small but I keep taking them. If you ask me how I'm doing I won't load my burdens on you, but I will hopefully have the presence of mind to say that maybe I'm struggling today or share something with you that made me laugh instead of flashing you my stock photo smile and saying everything's just fine. Only that. My life isn't that quiet. Whose really is?</p><p>I want the world to be as clear as possible for Rado. Not mucked up with lies and artifice. </p><br/><img src='http://lh5.ggpht.com/-fcwBF5NNsPg/UT_xqtx_daI/AAAAAAAAC4M/ZQQmgRa9t6Q/20130306_175813.png' /></div>Jojonoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13114027.post-58844417705012840922013-03-09T22:20:00.002-07:002013-03-09T22:20:11.884-07:00Saturday Series ContinuedYesterday was Ziggy's birthday. &nbsp;My man is a shiny new 35 years old. &nbsp;He took it in stride - he enjoyed a few beers and the company of friends before (and well after) the clock struck twelve. &nbsp;I had two cupcakes yesterday - heck, and today - in his honor. &nbsp;Well, because of that and because I love cupcakes. &nbsp;Since I worked today and had the night shift yesterday, we will be celebrating him again on Sunday. &nbsp;Tomorrow, cake!<br /><br />We've moved, changed jobs, and altered educational trajectories; from 34 to 35, a lot has changed in Z's life. &nbsp;Like father like son. &nbsp;Connor continues to grow before our eyes. &nbsp;As is the case on every Saturday I work, when I got home 'Rad seemed <i>older</i>. &nbsp;I was looking at his profile while holding him in my arms this evening and he is truly a little boy. &nbsp;Toddler schmoddler, this kid is a <i>kid</i>. <br /><br />This was today's installation into the <a href="http://crushedcorn.blogspot.com/2013/02/the-saturday-series.html" target="_blank">Saturday Series</a>:<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-M4RidV7KcJo/UTwVo3dBPbI/AAAAAAAAC38/d36_W3wBQkw/s1600/20130309_141906.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-M4RidV7KcJo/UTwVo3dBPbI/AAAAAAAAC38/d36_W3wBQkw/s320/20130309_141906.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Hello extreeeeeme close up</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Don't forget to turn your clocks back tonight!</div>Jojonoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13114027.post-48238370237708475722013-03-06T20:15:00.003-07:002013-03-06T20:15:35.146-07:00WahhI don't know if it's motherhood or getting older or jaded, but my tolerance for pointless complaints (i.e. those that can be easily fixed (or not fixed <i>ever</i>)&nbsp;or avoided or complaints about things that aren't important) is nearing zero. <br /><br />No, that's not a clue about what is going on in our house. &nbsp;<i>Geeesh</i>.Jojonoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13114027.post-75639740623075367912013-03-04T13:07:00.001-07:002013-03-04T13:21:03.714-07:00Thinking and Not<div><p>Although it means I have to work on Saturday, I'm enjoying my Monday off. The dishes are washed, dinner is pre-cooking, and my homework is done. My mind is begging to be still even though my body knows there are toys to put away and mail to sort through. I'm going to let my mind win this time - it's time we stopped fighting with each other. Along those lines, I've broken one of my "rules": No coffee after 2:00 pm. I feel great about it. Am I really expected to sit in a vaccumed, quiet house without some caffeine? Didn't think so.</p><p>This weekend was perfect. We saw some old friends, got some big things done, and still spent some quality family&#160; time together. One of Connor's favorite after-dinner activities is to play football. His version involves holding one (or two) plush football and running at Z. Z responds by fake tackling him, taking him to the ground where they both erupt in laughter. Connor has even started saying "Hut hut!" It's almost too much.</p><p>That has been the centering that my soul has been searching for. It would have been great to do some yoga, pour my guts into a journal, or not let myself think of all that has yet to be done. Instead, I got to spend a great full weekend with Z and Rado eating good food, catching up, and laughing a lot. Connor and I are still struggling with wanting too much from each other, and sometimes one of us falls on the floor crying while the other only wishes she could do the same. But we're figuring it out. We're not giving up and we're only getting better and smarter. That's my goal, anyway.</p><br/><img src='http://lh4.ggpht.com/-9n_yVu8Rbo4/UTUCLroMSDI/AAAAAAAAC0M/M9jfn-zDzNw/297255_10150362672329710_1415492223_n.png' /></div>Jojonoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13114027.post-71887368424298557282013-02-27T19:30:00.000-07:002013-02-27T19:30:01.063-07:00Almost Halfway<div>This weekend was a doozy. &nbsp;A few days before he officially turns 18-months old the 'Rad-a-Dude decided to start drinking out of a cup unassisted. &nbsp;He also thought that was the perfect time to start parroting us. &nbsp;Those sweet days of "Eh, he doesn't understand what you're saying anyway" are over. &nbsp;Some significant new words added to his roster: please, night night (thanks, Lolo and Lola!), carpet (he said it once, but we haven't been able to get him to say it correctly since), and duck (sounds like "dot"). &nbsp;He has also added the pouty, tantrum-throwing, yelled "NO!" to his repertoire. &nbsp;Whattaya gonna do?<br /><br />I'll take it all, though. &nbsp;It's so much easier to take than to give. &nbsp;With 'Rado though, my fear is that I give him too much - too much attention so he'll turn into a little brat; too many kisses and hugs so that he'll feel I'm a needy, crazy mother when he's old enough to figure it out; too many words so that he'll never be able to enjoy moments of silence. &nbsp;Yes, he's not even two years old, but I know he knows a lot. &nbsp;He probably understands more than I do about things because his context is so pure and unmuddied. &nbsp;He is his pure self in a way that years of yoga will never allow me to be. &nbsp;I am hard on myself. &nbsp;But I also expect a lot from myself and with Connor I put an extra heaping of that on my back in hopes that I don't pass that fatal flaw on to the little man. &nbsp;He can probably sense that, though. You can't hide anything from those damn toddlers. &nbsp;Have you ever tried to keep a cell phone away from one? &nbsp;Good luck.<br /><br />Speaking of phones, everything is a cell phone to Connor. &nbsp;Today he had an in-depth conversation on my iPod. &nbsp;He also had a one-way exchange with Z on the baby monitor. &nbsp;Remote controls are fair game as well. By the time he's old enough to own a cell phone they'll probably be <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Attack_of_the_Killer_App" target="_blank">implanted in</a>.<br /><br /><img src="https://encrypted-tbn3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcROKG0rzPQInEIxAfE6zO-rejqlN_DOE5mSw6-HDIqP_u62KYbU4Q" />&nbsp;&nbsp;<img src="https://encrypted-tbn2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRDJuuOAFHIC6Oab6YVkbODliXQ1auYCrgQ5Whqvtyl1kMrAkoy" /><br /><br />To celebrate 'Rado's big-growth weekend (and since we had some alone time this weekend), he and I headed out on Sunday for some chocolates. &nbsp;The boy is a big fan of malted milk balls, and I'm a big fan of anything, so off we headed to the coffee shop downtown. &nbsp;We spent a great half-hour by the front window. &nbsp;Connor was captivated with the cars stopping and going at the stop light, which provided both of us just enough time to finish our goodies and allowed me a few big swallers of hot tea. &nbsp;I loved it. &nbsp;Simple mother-and-son time with no electronics, no crying or whining, and no clock-watching. &nbsp;I'm trying to savor and swallow up these moments as they, like all others, are so few and uncherished. &nbsp;Why is enjoying the time and moments we're given and the ones we experience so difficult?<br /><br />Here are a few captured moments from our chocolate outing:<br /><br /><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-KzBwI46ogSQ/US7Ad1VMTwI/AAAAAAAACzU/2L5saVO2LAs/20130223_171818.png" /><br /><br /><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-xIyFkTwh_oQ/US7AecauHPI/AAAAAAAACzc/AEB6_Vqfu1E/20130223_171247.png" /><br /><br /><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-G8JeRqxks9M/US7AfOrqH_I/AAAAAAAACzk/Oq10Uexs-m4/20130223_171814.png" /></div>Jojonoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13114027.post-23173245229560910012013-02-23T13:58:00.002-07:002013-02-23T13:58:29.246-07:00BBITRemember those <a href="http://crushedcorn.blogspot.com/2013/02/the-saturday-series.html" target="_blank">fabled breakfasts</a> (BBIT - Best Breakfast In Town - they call them) I told you about? &nbsp;Well, over the past couple of weekends I've had Saturday off and have been able to participate in them. &nbsp;Apparently, they were much more peaceful before I was able to take part. &nbsp;From the tales Z told, Connor would down a plateful of sausage and pancakes and just be a delightful addition to the breakfast table. &nbsp;With me along for the ride he's had his delightful moments, but he's also been a whiney, teary, hold-me hold-me carry-me, mess. &nbsp;Love the kid, but I wonder if we've hit the point where going out to eat is a true test. &nbsp;Yup, I think we're there. I'm still going to keep testing those waters, though. &nbsp;You're not doing it right unless someone's boundaries are being tested, right? &nbsp;I'm pretty sure that's 'Rado's motto these days.<br /><br />I have the winter crazies. &nbsp;Cabin fever has hit us hard. &nbsp;Connor can feel it and it's giving me that itch that makes me want to chop my hair off. &nbsp;A temporary cure: drawing with dry erase markers. &nbsp;We have two big glass panels in our dining room that have been sorely neglected since the cold set in, so they became our canvasses. <br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MXzXkMYPXzY/USkqojmBBLI/AAAAAAAACy0/hbqe2p54uwE/s1600/20130223_151723.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MXzXkMYPXzY/USkqojmBBLI/AAAAAAAACy0/hbqe2p54uwE/s320/20130223_151723.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">It's a little hard to see, but 'Rado's eyes are the black dots on the right and my hand is traced in red on the left</span></div><br />I traced my hand, then traced Connor's nugget. &nbsp;Connor added his hair in after I drew on his eyes, nose and mouth. &nbsp;The next time the little man wants to draw with markers, I'll suggest the windows first. &nbsp;They can be reused, we don't have to waste paper, and it's one less thing I need to keep on hand. Win!<br /><br />That took care of Connor's winter blahs for a few minutes, but what about mine? &nbsp;How do you handle the mid-winter doldrums? &nbsp;I think a visit to the <a href="http://www.greatlakeschocolate.com/" target="_blank">chocolate shop</a> is in order. &nbsp;Maybe shop for a <a href="http://www.lowrysbooks.com/" target="_blank">new book</a> for 'Rad and I (book suggestions?). Eating, coffee, and a book can fix anything.<br /><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;">Side note: While writing this post I was watching the episode of <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0460627/?ref_=fn_al_tt_1" target="_blank">Bones</a> where she has her baby. &nbsp;It almost made me want to cry. &nbsp;Seriously, it's <i>Bones</i>. &nbsp;Get me out of this house and off to coffee, chocolate, and book land, please.</span>Jojonoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13114027.post-20274106468690236942013-02-20T21:00:00.001-07:002013-02-21T03:51:14.152-07:00Fort Me<div><p>This modest fort has staked its claim on our living room for the past couple of weeks and I don't forsee its demolition any time soon (below). Yesterday Rad and I spent a little time in our makeshift shack playing peek-a-boo and pushing cars around on the floor. Connor's car sounds have inexplicably disappeared but I will take his laughs over them any day.</p><p>Sometimes I would like to make a fort like this for myself - a warm, quiet, solitary place that I can choose to hide in or peek out of. A place where I'm mot bothered or forced to think of what has to be done. It's almost meditation in physical form. Maybe I want Rad to enjoy his fort because I long for one of my own. A fort isn't as confining as closing yourself in a room and not as nervewracking as sitting in an open space where dishes need to be done, clothes need to be put away, and papers need to filed. Fun forts built with sheets and blankets aren't really just built for kids, are they? Connor's was built for me too, and I'm the adult so I can comandeer it as needed :-)</p><br/><img src='http://lh3.ggpht.com/-wNNthDh7TlA/USWb4u47aVI/AAAAAAAACyI/7RQRt0tKj94/20130220_202146.png' /><br/><img src='http://lh4.ggpht.com/-GsOgY9kb-HY/USWb5fNBN7I/AAAAAAAACyQ/SEwgg2JTXSs/20130220_202156.png' /></div>Jojonoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13114027.post-69564888566103239122013-02-19T19:08:00.001-07:002013-02-19T19:39:35.449-07:00Muffin Toppin'<div><p>I picked Rado up early from Jean's today and had some lofty goals for our extra time together: make a batch of chocolate chip banana muffins and do a yoga video. Connor gave a decisive "Yesh" (he hasn't mastered "Yes" just yet but he has "No" down pat) when asked if he wanted to do both of these things, but, well, the best laid plans...</p><p>On the first point, <a href="http://m.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/Banana-Chocolate-Chip-Muffins-101020">our muffins</a> turned out beautifully. Connor measured out the flour - a messy endeavor - while I mixed the ingredients up, and he added in the chocolate chips before I poured the batter into the muffin tin. Thirty-four minutes later we had these beauties to (see below. I've been posting from my phone and it kicks all my media to the bottom of the entry. I have much to learn). We split one warm, fresh muffin and kept both of us out of the kitchen until dinnertime lest we ruin our appetites for anything besides fruit and chocolate. 'Rad is looking for ways to assert his independence and helping me bake - while a bit messy - was pretty simple and fun. We'll definitely be whipping up more lovin' from the oven.</p><p>Yoga started out well enough. While sitting cross-legged the little man found a comfortable<i> </i>seat between my legs. It was all well and good until I actually had to <i>move</i>. Next thing I know I'm getting a phone dropped on my face, a toddler trying to sit on my chest while trying to chill in bridge pose, and numerous punches and assaults waged on my boobs. We had fun, though, even if very little true yoga was performed. I shouldn't have expected any less, that little turkey.</p><br/><img src='http://lh5.ggpht.com/-18_11dkCRSI/USQ2MnPq2lI/AAAAAAAACxo/v0eoKPCIfNo/20130219_202642.png' /></div>Jojonoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13114027.post-79428664332196588182013-02-16T20:10:00.001-07:002013-02-16T20:10:10.356-07:00Cleaning Up<div><p>With Connor napping at Mom and Papa's house, Z and I had the house all to ourselves. You know what that means, right? Oh yeah, time for some hardcore house cleaning. I tackled the kitchen and dining room and Z took on the spare bedroom. We rarely do more than the minimum necessary to keep the stench down and bugs away, which explains why I forgot that this spoon fell down the grate in the dining room MONTHS ago (see picture below). I took a picture of this spoon, but I didn't actually pluck it out of the vent. Meh, my level of hardcore cleaning doesn't include vents, air ducts, or grates.</p><br/><img src='http://lh4.ggpht.com/-fjeE-Bz8ghM/USBKEI0_TqI/AAAAAAAACxI/oCgtPFv0U2s/20130216_134422.png' /></div>Jojonoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13114027.post-12513028525152042982013-02-13T18:58:00.001-07:002013-02-13T18:58:32.899-07:00NuggetI'm doing it. &nbsp;I will be in bed (but not sleeping. &nbsp;Damn you, baby dishes! *shakesfistintheair*) before <strike>9:00</strike> 9:30 tonight. &nbsp;I've been thinking about how I cling to routine for Connor and try to make sure he gets fruits and veggies at each meal and that he gets to bed around 8:00 so he's well rested when he heads to Jean's in he morning. &nbsp;But when it comes to taking care of myself, I might as well eat out of the garbage and sleep for four hours standing up in a closet. &nbsp;All of my best intentions for myself get swallowed up in the vacuum of time, or not enough of it. &nbsp;I installed a little goal tracker app on my Nook in the hopes that it would help me eat more fruits and veggies, take my daily vitamin, and do 20 minutes of yoga each day. A lotta good it's done me since I don't even have time to turn the thing on each day. &nbsp;Either way, I think there's merit in trying. &nbsp;And trying. &nbsp;And continuing to try because the first time you didn't do so hot or you had a relapse or because you know that being content is great but you should still strive. &nbsp;I'm striving for those golden moments of contentment so that I can see what I'm really pushing forward for. &nbsp;I usually think I know what it's all for, but I also know how quickly that one true thing gets buried under all the junk. If you've read this blog for any amount of time you know how much I relapse, get back on the horse, and get buried.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Cb1a1StN6CI/URxDiDAtDLI/AAAAAAAACuk/WwfQWPkIXAA/s1600/20130211_090011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Cb1a1StN6CI/URxDiDAtDLI/AAAAAAAACuk/WwfQWPkIXAA/s320/20130211_090011.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br />This was a picture I took on Monday morning, when 'Rado and I spent time together before I had to head to work. &nbsp;His nugget looks huge. &nbsp;But it's still the best smelling, cutest one I know. &nbsp;What goes on in that nugget and how it's acted out when we're together is a source of pure joy, frustration, confusion, and love. &nbsp;There's so much I could say, but I'd be saying what I've already put out to you. &nbsp;Above all, I find strength and comfort in the words, "This too shall pass" and trying to take the Zen approach of enjoying each moment and not trying to look much past that. &nbsp;I'm obviously no Zen master, but I like their gardens.Jojonoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13114027.post-23095478984954239812013-02-12T20:29:00.001-07:002013-02-12T20:40:50.829-07:00Kicking Ass<div><p>It's so very unfair that when I feel guilty or uncertain about something, the world provides endless signs to make me feel even more guilty or uncertain than I had been before (and I was feeling sufficiently guilty/uncertain on my own, thank you very much). Take a look at this post from one of my favorite bloggers: <a href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Momastery/~3/KbUA9sw_hzA/">Friendly Fire</a>. She knows this feeling as I'm sure many of you do.</p><p>Tonight, after putting Connor to bed, I heard him whimpering and whining, so I snuck back into his room thinking he had dropped his baba. He was standing up in his crib, baba in mouth, waiting to be held. I picked up that lovey little man and he clung to me like I was a tree he was trying to climb. It was as if he wanted to get right into my sweatshirt with me, and I believe that his soft little arms could've held onto my neck until dawn. The clinging and climbing and cuddling immediately made me think, "I need to find another job. These crazy shifts are confusing Rad. He doesn't know when we'll see each other next. I'm messing with my kid's sense of security. I'm ruining my child!" Add to tonight's episode the fact that Connor has been pretty needy and clingy&#160; lately and usually goes to bed without a complaint and I really feel like a neglectful, shitty mom. It's amazing how much Connor seems to be feeling what I feel. I rocked and sang to and sat with Rado for a while, but every time I'd try to set him back in his crib he would go baby marsupial on me and try to fit into the front pouch of my sweatshirt. So I did what most married couples with kids do - called&#160;the hubby over to try his luck. After all was said and done, Rado did a little wailing but finally fell asleep on his own.</p><p>I go through episodes where I swear off the guilt, but the truth is I don't know that I can let go of it. As Glennon says in her post, "I understand the act of kicking one's own ass. I do it all the time."</p><p>P.S. Dear Rado, I hope my janky work schedule during your developmental years doesn't royally screw either of us up. You have no idea how easily you can break my heart.</p><p>Love,</p><p>Mom</p><br/><img src='http://lh6.ggpht.com/-rT-EZH0TW08/URsLQUnNyOI/AAAAAAAACuA/jRMfP56UEwI/IMG_20130211_114313.png' /></div>Jojonoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13114027.post-40719632901668829382013-02-05T07:14:00.002-07:002013-02-05T07:14:28.856-07:00The Saturday SeriesOn Saturday's while I'm at work, Connor and Z go on exciting adventures like eating at a new place for breakfast with Grandpa or heading out of town to new shops where Z can chase 'Rad down the aisles or search for him through racks of clothes. &nbsp;Last Saturday they decided to stay in town after breakfast, so I got this picture of the little man playing in his room:<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dkauwQmaoyU/URES6tQgYUI/AAAAAAAACrg/bYX4czNEkkE/s1600/250770_10151319435098922_342678177_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dkauwQmaoyU/URES6tQgYUI/AAAAAAAACrg/bYX4czNEkkE/s320/250770_10151319435098922_342678177_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br />A few weeks before that he sent me this picture of a boy very happy to be awake (notice how he's clutching his blanket and teddy, just like how I wanted to clutch his little baby cheeks when I saw this photo):<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hX8zmf3Zycc/URETV-rpyyI/AAAAAAAACro/ZXyQwO_FzNg/s1600/imagejpeg_2_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hX8zmf3Zycc/URETV-rpyyI/AAAAAAAACro/ZXyQwO_FzNg/s320/imagejpeg_2_2.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br />These pictures will be part of a larger compilation I call the Saturday Series. &nbsp;As Z shares these pictures with me to help me through my Saturday workday, I'll share them with you because they're just too delicious not to.<br /><br />Although we are a ways from Saturday, may dreams of the weekend (or just a job that you like!) keep you truuckin'.Jojonoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13114027.post-69348993552767870492013-02-01T18:36:00.001-07:002013-02-01T18:36:21.723-07:00More Guilt and Some Transitions<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><object width="320" height="266" class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-5iPQv-s8HBQ/UQxoU-SpZyI/AAAAAAAACpk/r7fWdg5u1OE/s0/20130125_083505.mp4"><param name="movie" value="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?videoUrl=http://redirector.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D94b7128566fd2097%26itag%3D5%26source%3Dpicasa%26cmo%3Dsensitive_content%253Dyes%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1362359636%26sparams%3Did,itag,source,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D45C1E9136761FC770CDCE38D1D132234998ABAF4.5F03DB17EB91AC6DC6B55E5AB3191E2B041AA59A%26key%3Dlh1" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /><embed width="320" height="266" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?videoUrl=http://redirector.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D94b7128566fd2097%26itag%3D5%26source%3Dpicasa%26cmo%3Dsensitive_content%253Dyes%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1362359636%26sparams%3Did,itag,source,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D45C1E9136761FC770CDCE38D1D132234998ABAF4.5F03DB17EB91AC6DC6B55E5AB3191E2B041AA59A%26key%3Dlh1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Grooving, on a Friday morning</span></div><br />I'm in one of those stretches where I worry that "Mommy Guilt" is raising 'Rado more than I am. &nbsp;It's ironic since I was home to put him to bed every night this week. &nbsp;But it's there - that feeling that I'm not saying "No" as much as I should, that I'm raising the kind of Starbucks customer who all the baristas cringe at when he walks in the door and who unknowingly gets a loogie splashed in his latte, and that I'm not reading/playing/hanging out/(insert action here) as much as I should. &nbsp;Then I think, <i>What is this </i><i><b>should </b>crap? &nbsp;</i>It seems like the shoulds&nbsp;are the mortal enemies of self-esteem. &nbsp;If I should have done x or y and I did, well, aren't I just stellar? &nbsp;But if I should have done x or y and I didn't, let the mental flagellation begin. &nbsp;Lame. &nbsp;But that often is how it is. &nbsp;Let's not let the shoulds win whether we did what we should have or not. &nbsp;Whatever I did, whatever is, that's what wins, and it's time to either be ok with that or change it. With Connor in the picture I think so much of what I may regret if I let the shoulds pile up. &nbsp;Unlike the kid who gets the huge tattoo of a tiger jumping through a firey hoop on his leg for his eighteenth birthday, no regrets!<br /><br />We have started to transition 'Rado away from the bottle to the open-top cup. &nbsp;I figure that if we're traveling or on the move his regular bottle will suffice, but if we're sitting down to eat he might as well know how to handle a big-boy cup. &nbsp;He's doing pretty well with it, I'm happy to say. &nbsp;Two days and a small mound of water- and milk-soaked burpies later he still seems excited about it and giggles whenever he sees the liquid coming down the pipeline. &nbsp;We're holding the cup steady for him, but that doesn't stop him from drinking. &nbsp;At dinner tonight he drank water out of his regular bottle, milk out of his little blue plastic cup, and water from Z's and my glass. &nbsp;The one downside to this transition is that it opens him up for a lot more pointing and grunting. &nbsp;He seems to be heading towards the terrible twos anyway, so maybe he's transitioning us more than we're transitioning him.Jojonoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13114027.post-31048500704308704552013-01-24T19:39:00.002-07:002013-01-24T19:39:14.810-07:00ExplosionsSometimes I can't get over how much of Connor's life I'm missing. &nbsp;Yes, I have to work. &nbsp;Yes, I have to go to school. &nbsp;And (unfortunately) yes, the laundry must be done and the house must be cleaned. &nbsp;I don't mean for these things to trump the time I have with my little man, but somehow all the chores and errands have to coexist with story time, playing with trucks time, and most definitely with fawning over 'Rado time. &nbsp;I'm still not sure how. &nbsp;With my wonky work schedule, there are times during the week that I don't see Connor for a day and a half. &nbsp;When we're reunited, it feels like it's been days upon days since we were together last. &nbsp;I can tell Connor feels the same by the way he clings to me, and these days I don't have the heart to give either of us much space. &nbsp;I'm walking the fine line between affection and push-over-dom. &nbsp;Is that the line we always walk? &nbsp;It may be the one I choose to take for now.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-i6FGZMOByJs/UQHsaThkE7I/AAAAAAAACmA/hz0HpsNgnsw/s1600/20130124_211628.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-i6FGZMOByJs/UQHsaThkE7I/AAAAAAAACmA/hz0HpsNgnsw/s320/20130124_211628.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br />Connor received two sets of alphabet magnets for Christmas and make this masterpiece today. &nbsp;It's a perfect abstraction of how my mind feels some days. &nbsp;On other days, it's pretty much a letter-for-letter representation of the jumble of words that escape my mouth while trying to have a conversation. &nbsp;On worse days, it may be both. &nbsp;My goal is to work on those letters and form them into full, fulfilled thoughts and intelligent words. &nbsp;I used to be like that (I think). &nbsp;Is this the infamous "mommy brain" striking? &nbsp;Our bodies change with babies, but only gawd knows the magnitude of how much our brains change in the process.<br /><br />Speaking of letters, 'Rad is going through a word <i>explosion</i>&nbsp;these days. &nbsp;Today he said "ball," his favorite toy. &nbsp;Best part is, he says it with a southern drawl so it sounds like "bawhl." &nbsp;The other day my mom said he repeated after her when she said "flower." "Cheese" is his favorite word to whip out when he's feeling snacky, and, ok, so that's all he's said so far but it seems like an explosion to me, damnit. &nbsp;He is also nodding his head more. &nbsp;Since we dubbed him the Magic 8 Ball for his quick responses to any question my family throws at him, it will be nice to get a "Yes," "It is decidedly so," or an "Outlook Good," as opposed to the hearty "Outlook is not good" responses he was doling out. &nbsp;(Yes, I went to Wikipedia for those 8-ball answers. &nbsp;I know someone out there would know all of those without thinking twice)<br /><br />The little man has also been getting his groove on a lot. &nbsp;The jungle tune that his push lion plays and the happy diddy that his ball-popping dragon spouts get his little baby booty bouncing. &nbsp;He's also good at the sway and will happily join in if we start an impromptu dance circle in the kitchen, which has been known to happen. &nbsp;One more thing about how cool this kid is: Tonight while putting him to bed, he gave happy little giggles when we gave him his teddy bear and blanket. &nbsp;The kid was so excited to go to sleep. &nbsp;Ok, done bragging for now.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><object width="320" height="266" class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-VJhDFwjZ4ZQ/UQHv7FbFPYI/AAAAAAAACmg/p0jk-fmJjd8/s0/20130120_165405.mp4"><param name="movie" value="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?videoUrl=http://redirector.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D898ddcb43aee4aea%26itag%3D5%26source%3Dpicasa%26cmo%3Dsensitive_content%253Dyes%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1361673452%26sparams%3Did,itag,source,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D8D861CA4FAD3AE38B02B1189AC9003357C3D524D.6E1FB84E7C5ABBEA8B1C13F676BFFE182411D960%26key%3Dlh1" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /><embed width="320" height="266" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?videoUrl=http://redirector.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D898ddcb43aee4aea%26itag%3D5%26source%3Dpicasa%26cmo%3Dsensitive_content%253Dyes%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1361673452%26sparams%3Did,itag,source,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D8D861CA4FAD3AE38B02B1189AC9003357C3D524D.6E1FB84E7C5ABBEA8B1C13F676BFFE182411D960%26key%3Dlh1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Nothing gets you moving like a pre-programmed keyboard tune</span></div><br />As for me, I haven't learned any new words or dance moves. &nbsp;'Rado has the market on interesting and exciting things happening around the house. &nbsp;I'm just here, hanging out, being tired.Jojonoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13114027.post-38532441657008485612013-01-14T21:16:00.001-07:002013-01-14T21:16:24.083-07:00Carsss<div><p>Just as most boys are apt to do, Connor has hit the car phase. To be honest, I had kind of been dreading it because I thought it would be a waste of money and not very exciting for me, the mama. Thankfully, toy cars from my sisters' boys saved us some cash and I've found the car phase pretty endearing. Rado walks around the house whispering "Carsss" while cluching one in each hand. He rolls them up and down my pant legs or across the surface of the bed. One of my favorites is when he runs them across the floorboards on hands and knees making the "Vrrmmm vrrmmm" sound whether we're there to hear it or not. It's those unconscious moments - when baby Connor's just being baby Connor - that are the best.</p><p>The momsumer (I just made up that word: mom + consumer. I'm so clever) in me wants to run out and buy those cash-draining toys because Rado finally has a concrete "like" besides blackberries and applesauce. Kids toys these days are pretty adorable and businesses know how easily we can all be suckered (I'm still trying to come up with a valid excuse as to why I should buy myself a Lalaloopsy doll). But we'll start with the hand-me-down cars for now. Or at least until payday comes around again. What is it about a kid that just makes you want to <i>spend</i> for no reason? Momsumer? I can be such a momsucker sometimes.</p><br/><img src='http://lh4.ggpht.com/-Tnm5PKPsA5Q/UPTYEgW1VeI/AAAAAAAACiE/V4YLhmtbyEA/20130111_094003.png' /><br/><img src='http://lh5.ggpht.com/-PNhB0AuTNl8/UPTYFdTLisI/AAAAAAAACiM/Xp1Yf1hM5u0/20130111_093135.png' /></div>Jojonoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13114027.post-65306246836563222122013-01-10T20:43:00.000-07:002013-01-10T20:43:18.464-07:00A Week in Pictures<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bDTiMx3Y46w/UO-HLFHPqVI/AAAAAAAACeY/-ipm5e78ynk/s1600/20130109_153137.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bDTiMx3Y46w/UO-HLFHPqVI/AAAAAAAACeY/-ipm5e78ynk/s320/20130109_153137.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jdmhYxLYjgQ/UO-HLJbmBQI/AAAAAAAACeY/CDHIbzmIE3g/s1600/20130109_153142.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jdmhYxLYjgQ/UO-HLJbmBQI/AAAAAAAACeY/CDHIbzmIE3g/s320/20130109_153142.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Rad's first taste of hummus yesterday. &nbsp;He liked it! &nbsp;No surprise, considering he's a hoss.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ncp2jb_-HD8/UO-HaEye8hI/AAAAAAAACek/UNfEFlSHjkU/s1600/20130106_180905.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ncp2jb_-HD8/UO-HaEye8hI/AAAAAAAACek/UNfEFlSHjkU/s320/20130106_180905.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Already trying to fit into some big shoes.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MxbV5ysqWTo/UO-Hq5EtZFI/AAAAAAAACes/eB1tUU45Jdw/s1600/20130103_104348.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MxbV5ysqWTo/UO-Hq5EtZFI/AAAAAAAACes/eB1tUU45Jdw/s320/20130103_104348.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">What Connor did during my first attempt to do a workout video while we hung out in the morning.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UUvHZ6BNzC4/UO-J_29tHbI/AAAAAAAACfM/EHj5l6cirOE/s1600/20130101_191453.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UUvHZ6BNzC4/UO-J_29tHbI/AAAAAAAACfM/EHj5l6cirOE/s320/20130101_191453.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4EtpHGFhaek/UO-J_4gPAOI/AAAAAAAACfM/JojmZPMMMBs/s1600/20130101_191447.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4EtpHGFhaek/UO-J_4gPAOI/AAAAAAAACfM/JojmZPMMMBs/s320/20130101_191447.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Connor's Don King impression, assuming that Don King is as crazy about Wendy's french fries and chili as 'Rad is.</div>Jojonoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13114027.post-56885217243172293002013-01-04T21:06:00.001-07:002013-01-10T20:25:50.640-07:00A New Year (With Videos!)There have been so many times I've wanted to write you and tell you how good I'm feeling, how low the lows are, and how frustrated I am with work/coming up with meals for the week/keeping to all together and I just wrote you a few days ago! &nbsp;It doesn't matter, though. &nbsp;It's Friday, I got out of work early, and things are good. &nbsp;Heck, I might even have a beer. &nbsp;That's how relaxed I'm feeling, or at least how relaxed I'd like to feel before I call it a night.<br /><br />On New Year's Eve day we took Connor sledding for the first time. &nbsp;I tried to ride down with him but only managed to steer us sharply off track, so we decided that sending him downhill on his own was a better way to go for him to get the full effect of sledding - the speed, the cold air, and the view. &nbsp;He loved it! &nbsp;He was smiling and laughing at the end of each run, and he was sufficiently rosy cheeked by the time we loaded back up in the car and headed home. <br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-48T9X3-MGuE/UOekOhtkllI/AAAAAAAACVQ/uSZa_iwmjiM/s1600/Connor+sledding+12.31.12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-48T9X3-MGuE/UOekOhtkllI/AAAAAAAACVQ/uSZa_iwmjiM/s1600/Connor+sledding+12.31.12.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-size: x-small;">Check back for video of 'Rad's rides!</span><br /><span style="color: red; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><object class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-siRorhyJPNE/UO-FPtIR9yI/AAAAAAAACdE/29UkQIGt2y8/s0/20121230_132439.mp4" height="266" width="320"><param name="movie" value="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?videoUrl=http://redirector.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dd45a68a7f922270b%26itag%3D5%26source%3Dpicasa%26cmo%3Dsensitive_content%253Dyes%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1360466495%26sparams%3Did,itag,source,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3DD77E40D07EDD627EF31CE88C746574DEA675A756.1FD74898C56778AD368B4D90297A6B74F15987A5%26key%3Dlh1" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /><embed width="320" height="266" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?videoUrl=http://redirector.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dd45a68a7f922270b%26itag%3D5%26source%3Dpicasa%26cmo%3Dsensitive_content%253Dyes%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1360466495%26sparams%3Did,itag,source,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3DD77E40D07EDD627EF31CE88C746574DEA675A756.1FD74898C56778AD368B4D90297A6B74F15987A5%26key%3Dlh1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object></div><span style="color: red; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: x-small;">Rad's first tromp in the snow</span><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><object class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-N25RwwR6Egs/UO-FkksonwI/AAAAAAAACdY/eYSjgEe7wFA/s0/20121230_133645.mp4" height="266" width="320"><param name="movie" value="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?videoUrl=http://redirector.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D2127f040a6684b7f%26itag%3D5%26source%3Dpicasa%26cmo%3Dsensitive_content%253Dyes%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1360466579%26sparams%3Did,itag,source,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D75318B5F09AA9DAFF57C6F11FCAEB5A88665D7F3.BDB2A8E43CACBBF825B0378F69A025503C029973%26key%3Dlh1" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /><embed width="320" height="266" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?videoUrl=http://redirector.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D2127f040a6684b7f%26itag%3D5%26source%3Dpicasa%26cmo%3Dsensitive_content%253Dyes%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1360466579%26sparams%3Did,itag,source,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D75318B5F09AA9DAFF57C6F11FCAEB5A88665D7F3.BDB2A8E43CACBBF825B0378F69A025503C029973%26key%3Dlh1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The "long run"</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><object class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-zf7Q1kHG44s/UO-Fnn9pLhI/AAAAAAAACdg/N7G8OThiuE4/s0/20121230_133546.mp4" height="266" width="320"><param name="movie" value="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?videoUrl=http://redirector.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D79ea74fce13216bd%26itag%3D5%26source%3Dpicasa%26cmo%3Dsensitive_content%253Dyes%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1360466591%26sparams%3Did,itag,source,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D57D109AFB647A90656D670BC3C71D9B83F107E99.9925ACE2A4E38395B5E2DAEC76DFDD68B8C5D6D1%26key%3Dlh1" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /><embed width="320" height="266" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?videoUrl=http://redirector.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D79ea74fce13216bd%26itag%3D5%26source%3Dpicasa%26cmo%3Dsensitive_content%253Dyes%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1360466591%26sparams%3Did,itag,source,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D57D109AFB647A90656D670BC3C71D9B83F107E99.9925ACE2A4E38395B5E2DAEC76DFDD68B8C5D6D1%26key%3Dlh1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object><br /><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;">The "side rider" run</span><br /><br /></div>I love that his first sledding experience was down the first hills that my sisters and I rode on when we were little. &nbsp;Same hill, but new and different tracks in the snow every year. &nbsp;Sand is great for zen gardens and all, but snow can do the same trick in the right climate.<br /><br />My sister, her husband, her oldest daughter, my parents, Z and I rang in the New Year wide awake (gasp!) at my parents' house, scratching our heads over the entertainers on Dick Clark's Rockin' New Year's Eve show (Brandy, was that <i>really </i>a comeback?). &nbsp;We poured a little bubbly, jingled the coins in our pockets, and clinked glasses to what we all home will be a great year. &nbsp;We made no official "resolutions" but made the usual "promises" to ourselves to eat better and save more. <br /><br />With you as my witnesses, I am also renewing my promise to not let motherhood define who I am, as it and every detail of 'Rado's life seem to be ruling my identity these days. &nbsp;If I'm at work before Connor gets up, I text Z at lunch to find out how his mood was in the morning. &nbsp;Working the late shift? &nbsp;The first words out of my mouth when I call Z on my way home are "How was Connor when you picked him up?" &nbsp;That is usually followed by a "How was his mood?" and "How did he eat?" &nbsp;These things aren't of the utmost importance and I'm sure Z would appreciate a "How are you?" or a "How was <i>your </i>day?" before I ask for a full rundown of the hours he spent with Connor between picking him up from his mom's house and when he put him to sleep. &nbsp;Somehow that's all an afterthought, though. &nbsp;Z shouldn't be an afterthought, and neither should I. &nbsp;None of us should be. &nbsp;Now, how to put that into practice...Jojonoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13114027.post-23306130843355127452012-12-27T21:58:00.000-07:002012-12-28T20:20:05.691-07:00A Christmas Replay<div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;">Holy crap, the holidays. &nbsp;The holidays, holy crap. &nbsp;Connor weathered a whirlwind extended weekend of family gatherings, late nights, and exceptions. &nbsp;It all started on <b>Friday</b> night with a party at our digs with Z's dad and brothers. &nbsp;We had a steak and potato dinner followed by conversation and a round of&nbsp;<a href="http://www.kmart.com/shc/s/p_10151_10104_004V002483548000P?sid=KDx01192011x000001&amp;srccode=cii_17588969&amp;cpncode=30-101214693-2" target="_blank">Pictionary Man</a>. &nbsp;Can't remember what we did <b>Saturday</b>...or&nbsp;<b>Sunday</b>. &nbsp;Well, one of those days Z's mom watched 'Rad for us and we had dinner with his brothers at a hibachi grill/sushi restaurant. &nbsp;We ate at our leisure, had some beers and sake, then spent the rest of the night chatting in his brother's new yet-to-be renovated kitchen. &nbsp;That's the first night we went out sans 'Rado since moving. &nbsp;It was nice, but you can bet your booty that I texted his mom a few times just to check in.</div></div><br />On <b>Monday, Christmas Eve</b>,&nbsp;we had most of the day for ourselves, but as the evening set in we got gussied up and headed to mass (Connor's first time back at church since his baptism). &nbsp;'Rad did pretty well considering all of the sitting, standing, kneeling and quiet that we asked of him. &nbsp;He entertained himself by bouncing on my hip, trying to get the kids behind us to hold him, and kicking at the high heels of the woman in front of us. &nbsp;Afterwards, we hung out in the church basement with my parents for a little while as my mom tended the cake table for the "Baby Jesus birthday party" they were holding. &nbsp;Following that, we went to a gathering of Z's extended family. &nbsp;It was at that point that I started to lose my cool. &nbsp;All of the family, all of the toting 'Rad around, corralling him, it just got to me and exhaustion and a short temper started to set in. &nbsp;Connor handled it with much more grace than I. &nbsp;Sure, at the end of the night, which didn't end for us 11:00 pm, he was whining and writhing, but earlier in the evening he made me so proud by not being shy or pushy with the other kids, none of whom he knew. &nbsp;He even stood near the "stage" in the living room where one of the little girls busted out a solo romp to "Gangnam Style" and tried to mimic her quick, horse-riding like leg movements (I'm still holding out hope that he didn't inherit my awkward social skills). &nbsp;We made our way home after the family picture and Connor's obvious cries for pjs and sleep.<br /><br />And now we come to <b>Tuesday, Christmas Day</b>. &nbsp;Z's excitement on Christmas Day is what I imagine Connor's will be once he truly understands the holiday - he wakes up giddy, wanting us all to gather around the tree, 'Rad in his green reindeer and santa pajamas (we ended up getting 'Rad dressed before bringing him out to the tree to avoid any extra changing-pad drama). &nbsp;My favorite gift was the "Mom" necklace Z and Connor got me. <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PPbHjILG3yw/UN5g1T6T_KI/AAAAAAAACTI/zFwZ5Y_hoxY/s1600/Mom+Necklace.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PPbHjILG3yw/UN5g1T6T_KI/AAAAAAAACTI/zFwZ5Y_hoxY/s320/Mom+Necklace.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Connor's favorite gift was the <a href="http://www.petmountain.com/product/toss-fetch-dog-toys/11442-518243/chuckit-classic-ball-launcher.html" target="_blank">Chuck-It</a> we got for Blue. &nbsp;After gift-giving, we loaded up and had breakfast at Z's mom's house. &nbsp;From there, we loaded up again and headed to Ohio to Z's great-grandparents' house. &nbsp;We spent most of the day there, greeting his extended family as they arrived. <br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gNPwnRp8mhc/UN5hAJNLRoI/AAAAAAAACTQ/nSwmX7yPa-8/s1600/Connor+in+a+Box+2012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gNPwnRp8mhc/UN5hAJNLRoI/AAAAAAAACTQ/nSwmX7yPa-8/s320/Connor+in+a+Box+2012.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Connor in a box at great-grandma and great-grandpa's house</span></div><br />As wonderful as it was to be there with everyone, it made for a very long day. &nbsp;I took a nap that barely took the edge off my exhaustion and worn nerves. &nbsp;Connor's cough and running nose made a reappearance and he worked himself into a handful of coughing fits later into the evening. &nbsp;I just wanted to put my little man to sleep and get some true rest myself. &nbsp;And we finally did, and he slept hard into the morning and during his nap the next day.<br /><br />I feel like I'm not doing justice to all that happened during the holiday, but my mind is starting to slur over the details as it prepares for sleep. &nbsp;The holiday weekend may have been as jam-packed and tiring as it was enjoyable, and I'm looking forward to one more Christmas celebration this weekend. <br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TMcx5Bp__vg/UN5hS0tbvnI/AAAAAAAACTY/TjdmSWSUx34/s1600/Connor+After+Christmas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TMcx5Bp__vg/UN5hS0tbvnI/AAAAAAAACTY/TjdmSWSUx34/s320/Connor+After+Christmas.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">A tired Connor after Christmas</span></div><br />Then I guess we'll be forced to move on to New Year's and the celebratory void that follows. &nbsp;No full debbie downer thoughts, though! &nbsp;The holidays are still here to enjoy.Jojonoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13114027.post-159997994977416712012-12-24T00:45:00.001-07:002012-12-24T00:45:03.632-07:00Happy Holidays!<div><p>It's a couple of hours into Christmas Eve and I'm getting ready to go to sleep with thankful thoughts in mind. This evening, Z and I went out for and "adult" (read: Connor-less) dinner with his brothers for some delicious sushi and hibachi grill fun. We left stuffed, I had my first sips of liquor since moving and didn't fall asleep right after, thank you very much (pats self on back). Connor stayed with Grandma while we dined and we are now all safe at home - he in his crib, me in bed, and Z and two of his bros continuing to ride the night out with beers, conversation, and multiple trays of Christmas cookies. At this time of year it's sometimes hard to find a spare moment, a sliver of silence, and any time where you're not ready to fall asleep once you stop just "doing." It's lovely when it comes, if it comes, to provide perspective and that chance to just sit back and smile. That's why I love this time of year; all moments are framed in a frosty glow, lit by the light of the Christmas tree, tasting like cookies, and smelling like gingerbread. </p><p>Tomorrow we'll continue the holiday march by hanging out with my parents, going to a Christmas play, and attending a family dinner. The day after that we'll open presents before driving down to spend the day with Z'a grandparents. If I let it, that all sounds burdensome. But I love it. I love being so close that we can attend practically every family function because we're really truly home.</p><p>Happy holidays, everyone! I'll do my best to take pictures. I recommend you do the same to preserve these delicious holiday memories!</p></div>Jojonoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13114027.post-86064608050680601752012-12-12T17:47:00.001-07:002012-12-12T17:47:16.856-07:00Sick Baby<div><p>This post comes from the armchair of our front room, where I'm humming Christmas carols and soothing a sick 'Rado. I knew he was going to get something, but at the same time I was hoping he had some amazing superimmune system that would kill it off. Maybe baby #2 (whenever we decide to have him/her) will get that. After not eating most of the day, Connor downed every blackberry, carrot slice, orange slice, and puff I handed him when Z brought him home from daycare.&#160; 'Rad made some important phone calls that just couldn't, slipped into his jammies, and here we sit. Who knew that a 15-month old's head could feel so heavy when it's been on your shoulder for so long.</p><p>It's these moments that we're destined to love and hate as parents. There's something about feeling so completely needed and capable - I wouldn't want anyone else caring for 'Rado right now because I truly believe that all he needs is me, my aging shoulder, and to sleep with both of us by the tree. But for all my yearnings to be so wanted and needed by him, I would be happier if he were his goofy, happy, healthy self who cries when I read him his bedtime book because he's just having to much fun to go to sleep. If this is as bad as it gets for his first sickness though, I think I'll be able to savor this moment of need and comfort.</p></div>Jojonoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13114027.post-40222786345166634442012-12-05T20:08:00.000-07:002012-12-05T20:08:02.299-07:00Holiday HarbingingDecember has brought the holidays to our home, and although there are still ornaments to be hung and Christmas chotchkis to unpack we've taken care of the primary holiday harbinger: the tree. &nbsp;When I started writing this post, I thought I'd have a great bunch of photos to share with you. &nbsp;But then I realized that all of those great pictures were taken with my camera, the same camera that's missing the cord to upload all my pictures to the computer. &nbsp;Epic fail. &nbsp;I'll extract those photos somehow. &nbsp;For the time being, I'll share these photos from my camera with you:<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zWf_6B-tBz4/UMAAus0C4HI/AAAAAAAACSQ/vDfecz4FBz4/s1600/20121127_174718.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zWf_6B-tBz4/UMAAus0C4HI/AAAAAAAACSQ/vDfecz4FBz4/s320/20121127_174718.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">&nbsp;<span style="font-size: x-small;">I'm so proud of myself for thinking of putting garland on the banister. &nbsp;Such a unique thinker, this one.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GIAwALo8kP0/UMAAurCX-jI/AAAAAAAACSQ/vkuNLGjxrds/s1600/20121127_174701.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GIAwALo8kP0/UMAAurCX-jI/AAAAAAAACSQ/vkuNLGjxrds/s320/20121127_174701.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">&nbsp;<span style="font-size: x-small;">I regretfully report that some sparkly garland balls were harmed in the making of this photo.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-igmigxhIIKg/UMAAurbkBII/AAAAAAAACSQ/RCiVemdrtm4/s1600/20121127_174635.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-igmigxhIIKg/UMAAurbkBII/AAAAAAAACSQ/RCiVemdrtm4/s320/20121127_174635.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Baby attack!</span></div><br />In spite of having a lovely, warm holiday tinge to it, life still has been hectic as hell. &nbsp;I'm not sure why a 30-minute commute seemed so doable in Wisconsin but so completely devastating here. &nbsp;It definitely helped that Amy would let us pick 'Rad up after 5:00 pm but Jean would like him on his way home by 4:45 pm. &nbsp;And I wasn't going to school in Wisconsin. &nbsp;And 'Rad wasn't a moving, shaking 1-year old in Wisconsin. &nbsp;Ok, so it's not just the drive. <br /><br />I think we're managing relatively well, it's just that when I get to work or have a minute to take a look in the mirror I feel like I might as well have birds living in my hair, dirty socks shoved in my pocket, and a stray cat in my purse - I just feel a mess. &nbsp;It all works, though: We all eat three meals a day, we get to where we need to go when we need to be there, no one is forgotten or neglected (except for Blue Boy, sorry buddy), homework gets done mostly on time, and 'Rad gets lots of time with family as do we. &nbsp;<i>A quick note about the dirty socks: Tonight in 'Rad's room I got offended by the smell of my own feet. &nbsp;Then 'Rad laid on said feet. &nbsp;Thank gawd baby lotions and wipes smell good enough to mask the smell of my stank feet near his head.</i><br /><br />One thing that's definitely been neglected, however, is my record keeping of Connor's life as of late. &nbsp;He's doing so many different, new things so quickly that all of my mental post-its are fluttering to the ground, just to be rained on or inadvertently crumpled up and tossed. &nbsp;It seems like such a luxury to be able to put together a real paper and pen baby book. &nbsp;Recently, 'Rado has:<br /><br /><ul><li>Gone to the doctor (why do I always want to say that he went to the <i>vet</i>? &nbsp;Well, we have had the dog longer that we've had the 'Rad)&nbsp;for his 18-month visit a little early. &nbsp;Z said he didn't cry, is tall for his age, and he waved like he was on a parade float when he picked him up from daycare early only to have his bubble burst when he had to drop him back off there after the appointment.</li><li>He's been really into using his spoon and fork regardless of how successful he is with them. &nbsp;Actually, he's really into using<i>&nbsp;</i>his spoon and <i>my </i>fork lately. &nbsp;After seeing a picture of a kid with a fork stabbed through his nose in class, I'm terrified.</li><li>He's started making the airy "shhhh" sound when making toys fly through the air. &nbsp;Last night I picked him up and made him fly through the air and together we "shhhh"-ed down the hallway and to his room.</li><li>He loves flipping light switches and pushing buttons. &nbsp;If you have strays of either of these I'm sure he'd be thrilled if you sent them his way for Christmas.</li><li>Gotten bored with all of his <i>baby</i>&nbsp;baby toys. &nbsp;Any good toy ideas for a 15-month old?</li><li>Started to cry when we read him his bedtime book even if it's after having read him 5 other stories. &nbsp;Do we fake him out and just end the night on a non-goodnight book, or do we read through the tears then plunk his tired booty in bed? &nbsp;I've taken the cry-through-the-tears route. &nbsp;Bedtime's coming whether you like it or not, buddy.</li></ul><div>Is December really here? &nbsp;Of course it is! &nbsp;Christmas music has been playing non-stop in our house since.</div>Jojonoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13114027.post-41941044669470759402012-11-26T20:39:00.001-07:002012-11-26T20:39:33.557-07:00Thank You, Thanksgiving!Despite hosting Thanksgiving at our house this year, it was a pretty stress-free holiday thanks to the absence of a 5+ hour drive. &nbsp;Woohoo! &nbsp;Everyone came over, crammed themselves into our narrow kitchen and while Mom cooked the turkey at her house down the street, my sisters and brothers-in-law made side dishes, cooked pies, and did it all with grace and ease even when the over door decided that that night was a good time to become unhinged after cooking pies at 400 degrees for about an hour. &nbsp;No matter, our table was abundant with delicious dishes, a flavorful turkey, and the waiting plates a ravenous crew. &nbsp;We ate well, fell asleep on the couch, and had sah-weet leftovers for the following two days. &nbsp;My side of the family then celebrated Christmas the following day, trading our dressy Thanksgiving dinner clothes for pjs, 'Rado's jammies adorned with santas and reindeer. <br /><br />Because we already celebrated our family Christmas, I keep forgetting that the "real" Christmas has yet to happen. &nbsp;The great thing about it, though, is that all of the Black Friday/Cyber Monday/shop till you drop mumbo jumbo has no affect on me. &nbsp;I don't feel the need to buy Connor (or anyone) the hottest, coolest, newest thing. &nbsp;The harried masses can worry about that amongst themselves. &nbsp;I'm just going to stay home, maybe do some internet browsing, and always have the rockstar parking spot in my garage.<br /><br />All of the family and kiddo time we reveled in this weekend helped push Connor a little further down the road to big-boyhood. &nbsp;The evidence:<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CSZlXvIQA-Q/ULQ0pLpXS9I/AAAAAAAACQo/0bkCDLbK1HY/s1600/20121125_190405.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CSZlXvIQA-Q/ULQ0pLpXS9I/AAAAAAAACQo/0bkCDLbK1HY/s320/20121125_190405.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uExxEPTiZWo/ULQ0xPouBKI/AAAAAAAACQw/edNU15hLdfk/s1600/20121125_190347.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uExxEPTiZWo/ULQ0xPouBKI/AAAAAAAACQw/edNU15hLdfk/s320/20121125_190347.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This is a kid who, last night, ate an <i>entire</i>&nbsp;cup of applesauce with a spoon. &nbsp;No fake! &nbsp;We didn't even have to prompt him to do it, except near the very end where he wanted to go all caveman on it and dip his hands into the cup. &nbsp;Tonight's cup of yogurt wasn't <i>as </i>successful, but the spoon was still very much a factor during dinner time. &nbsp;Just when you think babies are cute, you see them using utensils and your brain about explodes. &nbsp;At least that's how I react to it.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Hopefully I will have Thanksgiving pictures to share with you in a few days. &nbsp;How was your holiday? &nbsp;Still digesting?</div>Jojonoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13114027.post-86911682299963956402012-11-19T19:05:00.000-07:002012-11-19T19:05:04.889-07:00Oh, ToddlerTeething has returned. &nbsp;After being a two-toothed wonder for months, 'Rad's top two middle teeth - with a big gap between them - are starting to take the stage. &nbsp;From the way he gnaws on his hand and fingers, I'm assuming he'll have a full grill by the new year.<br /><br />After working to reach a point where he could play by himself in his room for 20-30 minutes, the havoc of my inconsistent work schedule has reared its ugly head. &nbsp;Now, when Connor and I are at home he feels the need to cling to my legs, stand in front of me and insist on being picked up, and whine every time I walk out of the room for the splittest of seconds. &nbsp;Is it my work schedule? &nbsp;Is it the teething? &nbsp;Is it toddlerhood? &nbsp;I'm going to try to let go of this need to know what is causing his renewed neediness, because Dog knows that it could be everything and nothing and I'm much closer to not knowing than I am to figuring it out. &nbsp;It will be hard, though. &nbsp;I like knowing root causes of things so I can either stress out about it or act on it. &nbsp;The manic nature of toddlerhood makes me feel like I'm going crazy some days.<br /><br />No matter, 'Rado is still rocking out despite some setbacks. &nbsp;Tonight, as we were reading him his <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Baby-Touch-Feel-DK-Publishing/dp/0756634679/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&amp;qid=1353376331&amp;sr=8-3&amp;keywords=touch+and+feel+farm" target="_blank">Baby Touch and Feel Farm book</a> before bedtime, he insisted on flipping back to the pages with the shiny tractor and sparkling wheat. &nbsp;At first, he would just look at the pages. &nbsp;Then, he would flip back to those pages and just start laughing. &nbsp;Something about that shiny tractor and sparkling wheat was just so <i>funny</i>. &nbsp;I love that I don't know why those pages were funny and that something as mundane as a tractor and wheat had the power to draw those chiming baby laughs from him. &nbsp;The other day, I put him on my stomach while I lay on my back and I just started laughing. &nbsp;Then he started laughing. &nbsp;Then I started laughing and we sat laughing at each other for minutes on end, not knowing why we were laughing or why we would need to stop. &nbsp;Sometimes there's so much joy in the not knowing because the knowing can often carry a lot of pressure and responsibility. <br /><br />Other things Connor is into nowadays:<br /><br /><ul><li>Peek-a-boo (all you have to say is, "Where is Connor?" and he's game)</li></ul><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Fi1YMGQ5nyk/UKrlDRjbUMI/AAAAAAAACOQ/cUikyoyyLNY/s1600/20121116_094844.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Fi1YMGQ5nyk/UKrlDRjbUMI/AAAAAAAACOQ/cUikyoyyLNY/s320/20121116_094844.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Mom's closet is a good place to hide</span></div><ul><li>Flipping light switches on and off</li><li>(Demolishing) The hide-and-seek flaps in books</li><li>Trying to escape from me, double-fisted (a pacifier in each hand, that is)</li><li>Pulling all of the books off of his bookshelf and not putting a one back</li></ul><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DMLv36nEEA0/UKrk-ZYbvzI/AAAAAAAACOI/4gI4OfzFD1g/s1600/20121118_182025.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DMLv36nEEA0/UKrk-ZYbvzI/AAAAAAAACOI/4gI4OfzFD1g/s320/20121118_182025.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">His, "Oh, you've caught me in my study" look</span></div><br /><br />Jojonoreply@blogger.com0